YOU Can Make the World a Better Place

Forget global warming.

Forget world peace.

If you really want to do something to make a difference for future generations,

If you really want to make the world a better place for your children,

Or, at the very least, if you want to avoid the SCORN of your children and keep future generations from CURSING your very name and BURNING an effigy of you in the streets,

Then good people of the Earth, DO NOT, I say DO NOT, use ROCKS as MULCH!!!

Rocks belong along riverbeds and lake shores. How lovely. You can skip them across the peaceful water, feel their cool smoothness in your hand, or accidentally hit your dog right in the noggin when you're aiming for a tree stump. (The fact that the dog is two feet in front of you and the intended tree stump is across the river is of no consequence.)

Rocks do not belong in your yard, and they certainly do not belong in a PLANT BED that was obviously, undeniable constructed for the exact and specific purpose of digging holes in the ground for in which to place plants.

I mean, hello, farmers curse the ground that is full of rocks. It breaks their plowshares and stubs their wittle toesies. Rocks + planting x cultivating = I'm very angry.

As you can see, the previous owners of our new home did not have someone as wise as myself to warn them of the curse they were casting on the innocents to come behind them.


Sunday was supposed to be spent planting my flower bulbs and some dewberries Susannah gave me. The harmless little layer of pebbles on the plant bed ended up being a malicious shield of pebbles at least several layers of the earth deep. I swear I got at least to the outer core.

I spent the better part of Sunday afternoon trying to remove the pebbles. I started out with a hand trowel, a kitchen sieve and a little bucket. Then, I realized that I pretty much wanted to shoot myself in eye. Then, I complained to Tanner, lamenting approximately 23 different ways about how stupid the previous owners were, how helpless I was and how my planter was doomed to a rocky death. Then, I wrote a short, sad ballad and played it for the dogs on the recorder I still have from my kindergarten music class at William B. Travis Elementary. Then I played Hot Cross Buns.

Then, I figured out a better solution. I took two wheelbarrows and set them side by side. Over one, I placed a metal grate that used to be on Tanner's utility vehicle. I took shovels full of dirt and dumped it on the grate, then, once I got a good pile, moved the rocks and dirt around until the dirt was sifted through. Then, I dumped the rocks into the other wheelbarrow and started all over again.

I was also battling a wild, killer onion with roots like spaghetti noodles that had taken over the planter.


Oh yeah, and for some reason, someone had buried plants in terracotta pots. In the ground. They put the plant in the pot, then buried the pot. So far, I've found four.


I spend several hours shoveling and sifting for rocks. It was kind of like sifting for gold, but more like the time when I was a child and swallowed a marble and had to poop in a bucket and someone had to sift through... never mind.

I made about 5 feet of progress that Sunday afternoon sifting for rocks.



The planter, which is along our shop, is 20 feet long.

There is a cumulative 113 feet surrounding the house that is also "mulched" with rocks.


I'd say I have a nice little project on my hands. (The rocks around the house are larger than the rocks around the shop, which are more like pebbles.)

And we have no clue what do with the rocks.

Any suggestions?

I don't know where the previous owners live, or else... never mind.

A Boy's Dream

Tonight, one of Tanner's dreams came true.

For $1, at a Redbox outside Walmart, he rented a movie.

He took that movie home, and placed it in the DVD player.

The cast included Sylvester Stallone, Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jet Li, Randy Couture (UFC fighter), and Stone Cold Steve Austin.

In the first two minutes, as I was cooking dinner, I heard him gleefully exclaim from the living room,

"They already blew a guy in half! This is going to be good!"

Sounds like a gem.

We Bought a House Today

It's true. After work, Tanner and I went downtown to sign the papers and close on our first home!

Our first night in our first home

About four months ago, we started looking for a house in the Weatherford area. We wanted something with acreage for the horses, a yard for the dogs, and a decent house. Oh, and in a specific side of town and at an affordable price! It turns out that getting all of those stars to align is not aeasy. I was getting to the point where I was ready to sell the horses and all our possessions and move to a shanty in Maui.

Then, the perfect deal presented itself with all the criteria we were looking for. A brick home on 2 acres at the end of a quiet dead end road in the right rural area – and a bargain price. It took about a month for all the wheeling and dealing to go through. Offers, counter offers, inspections, repairs, approvals – it's all enough to make me want to puke. Tanner handled most of everything, for which I am sincerely and abundantly grateful. He is much more calm, confident and willing to relinquish control than I am.

Now that the process is finished, I'm a little shocked and so thankful that we have our first home! I am very humbled by how God has worked things for our good. Early in 2010, I lost a great job when the company relocated to Colorado. It was my first job, and my firs time to lose a job, which can be a little scary. I received a severance package though and was paid extra to stay on as a contractor until my replacement was hired. We were able to put all that money away and use it as the down payment on this home. I was blessed to find a new job with only a week layover in between and Tanner has been securely holding a really wonderful job in the natural gas industry here in Weatherford. With the down payment ready and the insanely low interest rate Tanner was able to secure, we were able to close and secure a monthly mortgage payment on a 15 year loan at only $18 more than we were paying each month in our rental.

And that's not even the best part. Most wonderful of all, we don't have to move. We bought the house that Tanner first rented in November of 2008 when he moved to Weatherford. We've been living in it as a married couple for the last year. We knew exactly what we were getting, good and bad, as buyers. We don't have to pack. We don't have to move. We don't have to unpack.

Our home (take during the fall)

The only thing left to do was celebrate. We hit up Montana's for fried pickles, chicken fried chicken, fried porkchop, mashed and baked taters, Texas toast and salad.

I'm not kidding.

At the restaurant, I asked Tanner if he would carry me over the threshold of our new home. He conveniently forgot and is passed out on the couch with Gladiator and spilled guts running soothingly on the TV.

It may be our first night in our "new" home, but some things will never change.

Naked and Bears

There is nudity in our living room.

In record time (which for me constitutes Jan. 2), I stripped away all the Christmas decorations in the house except for the tree itself, which now stands naked in the living room. For the last few weeks, it was always there welcoming me as I rounded the kaliche road to the house. Thanks to the miracle of the $9.99 timer I bought at Bed Bath & Beyond, our front window was aglow each evening with the twinkling of colored lights. I couldn’t wait to get in the house and get cozy by the tree with a glass of wine or a mug of tea.

Then Tanner would come home and ruin it all by changing the TV channel to Rambo III and making me watch guts spill all over the screen.

Now, I feel kind of bad for the tree. Maybe it reminds me too much of what my face will be like in a few years – dry, discolored, plain. I’m already using line-smoothing under eye concealer for goodness sake!

Really, I think I just remember how jolly and beautiful the tree looked just days ago. I imagine the tree feels a little sad now. Which is stupid, because it has no feelings. However, until I was married, I had to arrange the discarded stuffed animals from my bed comfortably on a pillow on the floor because I didn’t want them to lay all askew and disjointed on the floor through the night – that might hurt them. Now I just have one stuffed animal. I might or might not sleep with him.

I could easily draw all kinds of deep symbolism from my dejected tree about post-holiday sadness or how all earthly things lose their beauty and fade away. If that’s what you’re thinking, awesome. Elaborate in your mind and discover new hidden meanings. Critical thinking, self-examination and cultural analysis are so important.

I, however, am going to tell you about some of my favorite Christmas ornaments. I snapped pictures while I packing up.

This bear represents the fact that I am bear bait. When I lived in Canada, my family took the visiting Keaton family to the Canadian Rockies. We went on lil hike from the roadside to get a view of a lake. We walked out onto a foot bridge, took some pictures, then turned around to see a huge 800 lb grizzly bear blocking our way.

I was about 12 and I cussed in front of my parents. I either said the s-word or the f-word, I can’t remember. I tried to run away, but my dad told me to bring back the camera. The men started stomping and clapping, which is ill advised. I imagine the bear rolled his eyes as he started walking away. Then my dad whistled, and that pissed Griz off. He started coming back. My dad instructed me to run, also ill advised. I ran so freakin fast, there are no words to describe it. I found a horse corral, a truck and a shed at the top of a hill. I tried to hide under the truck, but there was a disgusting marmot or some kind of large rodent under there. So, I hid behind the shed for what felt like hours, then walked back down the hill expecting to find my family mauled and eaten.

But everyone was fine and my mom was mad because she couldn’t find me. I was hidden pretty well.

Last year, Tanner and I took a trip back to Canada. I showed Tanner where I used to live (Edmonton, Alberta) and then took him to the Rockies. (I should/might blog about this trip someday…) One evening, we decided to go for a late hike. It was sometime around 7:30 or 8 p.m. It wasn’t getting dark until around 9:30 p.m., but these dusk hikes are not safe. As I found out upon later research, they are somewhat ill advised.

The hike started on the side of the road then wound up through a thickly wooded trail. We parked in the parking lot of a horse stable across the street. I had bought some bear spray in town before we went for the hike, because my original bear encounter had left me ridiculously freaked out and afraid of bears/hiking/the Rockies/Canada/life/etc. The guide who sold us the spray told us a story of how he and some friends were attacked by a bear as they were bike riding in a similar area to where we were heading… but that was just because the parks dept. had scented the area and hung up lines to catch hair samples. Oh.

Tanner and I were creeped the whole time. The man’s story story, dusk, heavy forestation and an active imagination let to a severely freaked out state. The whole time during our ascent through the woods, I was thinking of how scared I was and how I wished we hadn’t gone on this hike. But, not wanting to ruin it for Tanner, I tried to act brave and pretend I was having fun. Some comments to the effect of “this looks like a perfect place for a bear” were made him or myself, but that was about it. Finally we made it to a beautiful clearing that overlooked a bog. We watched for a while, hoping to spot a moose, the turned back around to head back to the car. On the way back, we both felt really uncomfortable and it was obvious. We had a weird, scared feeling and I was clapping my hands and singing bear deterrent songs. I have a really scary voice.

As we were getting fairly close to the road, we rounded a blind corner. Sure enough, there was a dang bear. I got a nice profile view of it walking across the path. I looked at it for about only a split second before cussing (apparently I need to work on this), turning around and hissing at Tanner, but I was pretty sure I saw the distinct hump of a Grizzly. It looked like a yearling bear, which immediately made me think of “mama” somewhere nearby. (It might have been an adult cinnamon Black Bear but I’m really not sure and Grizzlies are more dramatic, so shut up.) Apparently, my little outburst alerted the bear to our arrival, because after I had made an about-face and given Tanner a clear view of the bugger, it was standing on its back legs and looking straight at us.

We were on a trail, surrounded by trees, in dimming light at 8-something p.m., with no one around and a bear blocking our way back to the car. Tanner whipped out that bear spray, and we started walking back the way we came. I was by this time praying out loud very fervently and somewhat incoherently. At least I had matured spiritually from cussing to praying. I saw the error of my ways. And I was afraid I was going to die.

We found a break in the path and a fork that looked like it would take us back toward the car. The fork ran parallel to the path the bear was on and although you couldn’t see one path from the other, they didn’t fee too far away. 50 yards, maybe? Walking back toward the road and knowing how close that stupid bear could be at any moment was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. It was a moment of serious elation when we finally hid the road and saw the parking lot.

Of course, there was a car driving by at the exact moment Tanner and I busted mad-eyed from the woods and stumbled and ran to the parking lot. They were probably confused.

This turned out to be a long story.

One ornament is apparently enough for today.

Last night...

I was feeling a little guilty because Happy (the hyper dog) hadn't been walked in a couple days. He was starting to get that "look" in his eye – the manic look, not the sweet one. I was also feeling a lot bit lazy, and since I had run some errands after work, I was a lot starving. So, I took the easy/quick way out and decided to fire up the four-wheeler (after an over-the-phone refresher course with Tanner on how to start it – something he's shown me at least 10 times).

We hauled off down the road, and Happy and Digger ran along, sniffing and pooping and frolicking and pooping and running and pooping. We recently discovered they eat dropped horse grain from the pasture all day – I have no idea if this is dangerous, but do know it produces a lot of poop.

Halfway through the walk, at approximately the "white-dog house" (a landmark I'm SURE you're all familiar with...), Digger's mind shutoff. It happens a lot when we're walking. He just stops. He's not tired, because if you turn around and head towards the house, he'll start sprinting like his tail's on fire. If we're walking, I usually carry a leash and force him to finish the rest of the walk, or get annoyed and leave him sitting on the side of the road looking pitiful and insecure until Happy and I return on the back swing. But, since it was dark, and I had my handy, dandy four-wheeler, I lugged his 80 lb butt up onto the back where he awkwardly sat all stiff legged.

We carried on, although the four-wheeler was being a little weird and jerky and temperamental. (FYI, everything we have is "temperamental", which means second hand/ barely running/ in need of constant tinkering). At first Happy was very distressed and kept trying to suicide bomb the four-wheeler, but pretty soon he returned to galloping along with his tongue lolling out and slapping around. Digger got more comfortable too – a little too comfortable, because he started to slip. I was in third gear, driving with one hand in the dark on the side of the road and trying to keep Digger from going overboard.

Of course, the four-wheeler died. Of course, I was clueless on how to get it started again. Of course, Tanner was out to dinner with his boss and couldn't talk. I tried all the tricks and in a few seconds exhausted the limits of my knowledge on the craptraption. Soon, I resorted to just turning the key, and hence the headlights, on and off. Which, of course, flagged down a man in a Terminix truck. I didn't have my pink pepper spray and it was dark, so I was feeling particularly vulnerable. And even though I was on my safe little street and Tanner always says "nothing bad happens in the country," there WAS that home invasion just a few weeks earlier several miles away IN THE COUNTRY where a homeowner was SHOT and in turn SHOT THE INTRUDER. And there WAS that HELICOPTER circling my neighbor's field incessantly the other day AND I'M GOING TO BE ABDUCTED AND TORTURED!!!

While I vehemently shook my head "no" to everything the bug man said and avoided eye contact, the he kept asking me what I was doing out here in the middle of the road, what happened, what was wrong, did I need help, had I called Tanner.

Wait. What. Tanner? Finally I said (frantically), "WHO ARE YOU?"

Actually, it was our neighbor down the road. He got a job as an exterminator. I didn't know. Now I know. He went home and got his brother while I sat and waited, then got bored and started pushing the four wheeler uphill, then got tired and waited again. They came back with their mule (not the animal, but the ATV thing) and towed me away back to house. I got to sit on the four-wheeler and steer while they towed.

It was fun. And I saw a shooting star. So it ended up being a great night.

Oh. And the four-wheeler was out of gas.

Singing in Public

Have you ever been to a piano bar? I have. Twice. And that was all the experience I needed to realize that they are very fun and also potentially very embarrassing. If you are shy and hate people looking at you, let alone laughing at you, do not go. You will spend the whole time shivering in a corner, hoping and praying to the real God that the piano gods do not ensnare you in their terrible plots heartless cruelty.

Actually, you should be safe as long as your "friends" do not conspire to drag you to the front and make you fodder for a piano-wielding comic.

Luckily, I am not shy and I do not have annoying "friends." So, I was able to enjoy my piano bar experience just the way I like to - singing loud and obnoxiously from the "privacy" of my own table.

A while ago, Tanner and I met up with one of my best friends Jenni and her husband, Dr. Ryan Daniels. They were in town because Ryan had a veterinary conference to attend. Also, Jenni and her sister, Michelle, and her mom, Mrs. Dickson, all have their birthdays close to the same time. It was a mass-celebration thing, with a little hamster anatomy and canine dentistry thrown.

We met up with the Dicksons/Daniels to crash their birthday dinner and ended up getting roped into going to Pete's Piano Bar in downtown Fort Worth. It took all of 13 seconds to persuade us. Getting to stay in a swanky downtown hotel with Jenni and Ryan sealed the deal.

Michelle with her beautiful little boy, Hayden, at dinner

At a dueling piano bar, two really good pianists, who were destined to be rockstars but mistakenly ended up at Pete's, take all kinds of requests and wage in mock competitions with a correspondingly illogical running point tallies. It sounds dumb, but it's actually really fun. People write all kinds of song requests on little slips of paper. Some are just awesome, or really bad, song requests, while some are song requests that involve a person in attendance - usually a bachelorette or bachelor or birthday girl or unsuspecting and confused older, tipsy aunt who thought she was going to a country Western bar. The poor smuck has to go up to the front and sit on a stool and be sung about, or sing along or do any number of other silly things. It's very funny for the people watching. And most of the people up front don't seem to mind either. It doesn't hurt that they have cocktails. So how do you get your song selected from all the other requests? There is cash money attached to the song requests. DUH.

At Pete's

The best part of piano bars is that awesomely good and bad, new and old, are played and its totally accepted to sing along as loud as possible at the top of your lungs, even though SOME people, ahem, singing along have no talent/are tone deaf/sing like Cameron Diaz in My Best Friend's Wedding but without the cute, blonde, skinny factor.

I've decided that despite not having any musical talent and being arguably the worst singer in the world, I am going to become a piano bar performer. At one point, the bar got into a University of Texas, Texas A&M, Texas Tech (they were included for pity) battle with fans of all the schools vying to get their fight songs played. The cash was literally cascading over the pianos.

At Pete's, one "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" and one "Build Me Up Buttercup" later

So, you can find me Friday nights playing the in the waiting area at the Applebees in Weatherford.

It's Been a Good Year

Last month, Tanner and I celebrated our first year anniversary. A week before our actual anniversary, Sept. 19, we headed to New Braunfels and San Antonio to celebrate.

Any time we get a chance, we head to my family's River House in New Braunfels, which has been in the Sullivan family since my dad was born – so, about 45 years ;) It's the place I feel most at home in this big ol' world.

This little guy greeted us. I thought he was very cute. One time, in college, my sister accidentally shut a huge toad in her door and it was still alive. Then she realized she had locked herself out of the house, and the toad was trapped. Waiting for the Pop-A-Lock guy was a very traumatic experience.

We love taking the dogs down to the water. They are so happy, and the scenery is so beautiful.

One of those moments of pure majesty.

Like I said, pure majesty.
(I forgot my swimsuit. So no pictures of me in my Walmart sports bra and booty shorts.)

After a day a the river, we headed into San Antonio for something a little different.

We checked out the Alamo...



and the Riverwalk.

Then we headed to Boudro's on the Riverwalk, where the table side guacamole and the fire-roasted salsa are AMAZING...

and the view is breathtakingly beautiful.

I mean, breathtakingly beautiful.

More sightseeing after dinner...


Then a little surprise I orchestrated for my hubs back at our B&B, The River Vista Hotel (AMAZING place, FYI).

The next day, we were overdosed on champagne and romance, so we invited my parents up to the River House with us. That's how we roll.

Irrelevant. He just melts my heart.

Mom and Dad took us out to dinner,

and gave us a gift certificate to Country Custom Pine in Weatherford for a new dining room table.

It was a great way to celebrate one year of being married. After it all, there's nothing we enjoy more than simply spending time together.

I love you, Tanner.